


When in Egypt

by LightofEvolution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ancient Egypt AU, F/M, Kyodreams Fests' Dramione In Another Life 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightofEvolution/pseuds/LightofEvolution
Summary: On his mission to discover the potential of the Egyptian magic, Draco is sent to Alexandria by the Emperor himself. Accidentally, he stumbles into a woman's home. A woman who, upon closer inspection, might be exactly the person he is looking for.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 95
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for more than a year, on an off. Originally, I was given the prompt "Ancient Egypt" as part of the In Another Life fest 2018. The story has around eight chapters in total, five of them are largely written, the others are planned out. Though, with life being what it is at the moment, I don't want to give myself a strict update schedule.
> 
> No profit is made with this creative work, and I don't own the Potterverse or the Roman Empire.
> 
> A huge shout-out and all the love to the ladies who keep me going at the moment and have worked on this with me: my beta niffizzle, my cheerleader mcal, and Kyonomiko, one of my oldest friends in the fandom.

A few words on the historical background: 

I’ve taken some creative liberties here. Like A LOT. This story plays a few years after 27 b.C., the year Octavian was given the honorary title ‘Augustus’. Aside from many ahistorical details, the Isis cult (Isis being one of the most important gods and the goddess of magic and fertility) was more popular among the women of lower standing and the female slaves, though even Augustus’ infamous daughter is (vaguely) said to be a follower to annoy her father. He tried to forbid it in Rome, but wasn’t exactly successful with it. Draco and Theo’s mission is, of course, made up, as is their position within the Roman military. Though, a position among the  _ Vigintisexviri _ was considered the final position for Senators’ offspring before entering the cursus honorum (the sequence of higher, public offices). The position they have is an equivalent to that, answers directly to the Emperor. The words Caesar, Octavian, Emperor all refer to Augustus.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“This would never have happened in Rome,” Draco wheezed, his weight heavily supported by his fellow officer and friend, Theo. 

“No,” Theo laughed, “in Rome they would have attacked you with a knife, stabbing at your back.” Draco knew he was right. “And if you can’t cope with a cobra being thrown at you, you shouldn’t have insulted that fruit vendor’s daughter.” 

“She offered her ‘ripe, round fruits’ to me and was ugly as the night!” he tried to defend himself, his speech starting to slur due to the venom spreading through his body. 

“You are an idiot,” Theo commented and dragged Draco through a stone arch. “I don’t like what this snake bite is doing to you. Just let me get you away from the street so I can seep the venom from you with—” 

Draco’s companion stopped dead in his tracks upon discovering that the atrium opening behind the archway was not only occupied by plants and fountains, but also by a woman. 

“What do you want here,  _ milites _ ?” 

“My friend was bitten by a snake, an Egyptian cobra.” 

Draco, who had tried to focus on one of the nearby benches, now looked at the woman. 

“I only require a bit of privacy, and I’ll heal him myself.” 

Draco knew Theo wanted to take his wand out and work his magic, but the woman didn’t budge.

”You don’t plan on sucking it out with your mouth, do you?” 

Because neither Theo nor Draco knew how to answer that one, the woman flipped her dark brown curls back and walked over to them. She wore a gown Draco knew to associate with the daughters of Isis. He prayed his sluggish brain would keep this important information for later. 

The woman impatiently gestured for Theo to lower him down on a nearby stone bench. Not daring to expose their true intention to the Egyptian woman, Draco’s companion followed her orders. 

“It’s too dangerous to suck out the venom but very effective to seep it out.” She removed the part of Draco’s uniform where he had been bitten and ran her hand over the bite marks, murmuring to herself. 

A warm feeling spread first through his arm, then through the rest of him. The pressure on his lungs every time he tried to inhale lessened instantly and the sparks in front of his eyes vanished. 

Like magic. 

A firm hand pushed him down when he tried to get up. “Stay like this.” The woman, the witch he was now sure, stepped away from the bench only to return quickly. He felt a hand cupping the back of his head, and her, commanding him, “Drink this!” without any further explanation.

Why he trusted her not to poison him was beyond his capacity, but honestly, had she wanted to kill him because he was a member of the Roman military, she could have spared her energy healing him. Right? So he swallowed the vile tasting liquid. 

“This counters the effects of the snake venom. You should be good soon.” She held his gaze when it cleared fully. 

Draco’s first, sober view was that of two brown eyes looking intently at him. What followed was a wave of her scent: the earthy nature of Egypt mixed with parchment. He blinked the remains of the dizziness away, focusing on the admittedly very pretty face of the helpful woman — though the frown on it slightly impaired the beauty. 

“How many fingers?” Theo now held his hand between her and him. 

“Three.” 

“Correct.” 

“Isis and Osiris, the Roman can count.” She didn’t even try to hide the derision in her voice. 

Grabbing Theo’s hand for support, Draco slowly got up, expecting some effects on his balance, but there were none. He felt better, exhilarated even. Whatever she had given him had worked wonders. Reaching into a hidden pouch under his clothes, he intended to give the woman some coins as a reward. After all, he was a Roman  _ civil _ and was used to paying for services. 

When his movement caught her attention, the woman’s face showed nothing but disgust. “Who do you think I am that you want to pay me like some peasant?” 

She stood proud, and with the sun rays hitting her person, she made quite the impression, Draco thought to himself. The cotton of her robes not hiding, but emphasizing her femininity in the most subtle ways, she was the perfect picture of a proud Egyptian priestess. 

“I don’t know who you are, as you didn’t bother to tell me your name,” he chastised lightly. “But where I come from, it is customary to pay for excellent services such as yours. After all, the ingredients of the draught you gave me must be paid for.” 

She seemed to hesitate for a second, eyeing the coins with another frown. “The face of your Caesar is of no relevance here, nor is it of any worth.” The witch made a graceful movement with her hand, leading the rings on her wrists into a slight tingle, and pointed at the archway. “You should thank your  _ Penates  _ that I am quite familiar with the snake you’ve been bitten by. And now go.” Her curls swinging, she turned on her heel and left for the building. There was a subtle movement of her fingers and a slight shimmer around the woman that told Draco she had thrown up a shield before turning her back on them. 

He glanced at Theo, who merely shrugged and walked towards the street again. Not knowing what to do except follow him, Draco stepped onto the busy street again, the sudden noise almost startling him after the peace of the garden. 

They passed the short way to Theo’s quarters in silence.

* * *

Pouring himself another wine, Draco reclined back on the settee. Finally, he could share his thoughts with his best friend, away from the prying eyes and ears of the other people.

“Alright, Theo. What is your impression of the encounter with the Egyptian we had today?” 

Theo grinned. “You found a liking in the woman?” 

Draco shrugged. “She surely is a sweet grape I wouldn’t say no to sampling. But that’s not what I meant. She was… special, wasn’t she?” 

“You don’t need to choose such cryptic words, my friend. Everyone a bit sensitive to it could practically taste the magic she exuded. She belonged to the Isis priestesses; I am almost certain of it. She may be the opportunity we’re looking for.” Theo’s grin faded. “We’re supposed to investigate the area so that the Emperor can assure the old men in the  _ senatus _ that the cult their bored wives and mistresses are finding so posh is totally harmless.” 

“He doesn’t only want to mollify the Senate,” Draco corrected, thoughtful. “He wants us to explore the true magical potential for Him and the real danger in the powerful magic some of them are supposed to reign. And the witch we saw today is a sure proof of that theory.” 

“The men in Rome feel threatened by the power this religion ascribes to women and the sexuality that is a part of their practices. And with us, he could have sent two capable magicians that are loyal to him and the Empire. Two young, virile men.” Theo threw the woman serving them fruits a lecherous wink. 

Draco rolled his eyes, being used to his friend’s flirty ways. He, himself, of course enjoyed the nightly company of women from time to time, but also knew his father wanted him to find a wife soon; he was already in his twenties, after all. 

Though, Theo hadn’t finished his say. “But here’s the thing. This woman, this witch - she means trouble, that I would bet on Iulius’ cold grave. Look for some other opportunity to start the investigation, Draco. From the little I saw of her, she is independent, headstrong, and says what she thinks. Nothing like the docile little birds in Rome. She means fire, and you are going to get burnt if you aren’t careful.” 

Draco snorted, every bit the arrogant patrician sire he knew he was. “Dragons can stand a bit of fire. And she healed me; she can’t hate me, right?” 

Theo laughed. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All praise goes to the sweet mcal and my awesome beta niffizzle. Love you, ladies!

Draco looked at the owl in disdain. Of course, it was his father’s bird. Couldn’t he have sent a more inconspicuous animal? But obviously, Lucius Malfoy hadn’t been inconspicuous a single day in his life. 

“What does he want?” Theo asked over the table, suspecting the missive’s sender correctly. Thankfully, the two of them were in their private office at the moment. 

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.” Draco grabbed the parchment the regal owl had in its claws, and only his pet loving heart made him offer the messenger some treats and a bowl of water as well as a perch to rest. After all, it had flown all the way from Rome to Alexandria. Only then, Draco settled in the leather armchair next to his desk and opened his father’s letter.

_ “Dear Draco, _ ” the addressee snorted very un-patricially. He hadn’t been his father’s dear since leaving his mother’s womb. “ _ I hope all goes well with Our Emperor’s mission for you in Egypt. Your mother, the soft female soul she is, sends her greetings and reminds you to take care of yourself and sleep and eat enough. Severus reminds you to heed all his advices, whatever that may mean. I, for myself, am not only sending you this owl to ask after your well-being. As  _ pater familias _ , though, it is my priority. However, Draco, I want to remind you that it is of the utmost importance for you to fulfill your mission. The Caesar’s trust, in person and in the Senate, is our family’s guarantee of safety. Without it, we are in danger, not only politically, but also personally. I don’t need to mention that especially your mother, with her sister’s association with Antonius, needs our legacy to be firmly connected to the  _ Imperium Romanum’s _ inner circle of power and influence. Word of our special capabilities has spread too far among the patricians, and recent history hasn’t helped. So don’t let yourself be distracted by Cleopatra’s beautiful daughters - I am telling you this because I know you, son - and dedicate your time to fulfill the task Augustus has sent you to do. You are my only heir. With you, our family’s future stands and falls.  _

_ Post scriptum: Cantankerus Nott sends his greetings to Theodore. May he be of help and not a source of distractions for you.” _

Angrily, Draco balled the parchment in his hands and set it on fire with a flick of his wand.

“Wine, Draco?” Theo asked, reading his best friend’s mood. 

“Yes, please. Pour yourself one, too. Your father sends you ‘greetings.’ The only thing my father didn’t mention in this letter was that I am expected to get married upon my return to Rome.” He drowned the wine Theo had poured with one gulp and gestured for a refill. 

“That bad?” Theo suspected, and Draco could only nod. 

“Yes, but that’s my problem, not yours.” 

“It  _ is _ my problem when my best friend feels pressured to fulfill his father’s insane expectations. Did he tell you to be loyal to the Emperor’s cause again?” 

Another nod from Draco. 

“Of course he did,” Theo groaned. “Draco, you are trying your best here, fulfilling the mission and working on your own career. You can’t possibly make all your father’s wrongs right again.” 

“No. But if I don’t try, I am the one who has to live with the shame he brought to my family. He’s the one who followed Caesar’s plans, even though everyone in the Senate knew how insane they were. And worse yet, he supported Antonius even when it was clear how much that man loved Cleopatra’s tits more than anything else.” Draco swallowed, relieved he could voice his anger to someone. “I hear your words, Theodore, and I recognize the truth in them. Still, I am hoping against hope that my father’s plans for our family and mine won’t end in a war. As far as I see, Augustus brings peace to Rome. He might be strict with those who defer him, and he surely is suspicious of our powers most days, but he has the greater good in mind. What the Imperium needs now is a strong, benevolent leader with a clear moral codex. When we are smart, and with ‘we’ I mean you, me, and some others of our generation, we can convince the Emperor that magic is more than the dark traditions of some patrician families. And with this case, here in Egypt, we can win him over.” 

“That’s some big words, my friend. Maybe you are expecting too much from two men that haven’t even entered the  _ cursus honorum _ yet and are simply two senator’s sons working their way up in their destined hierarchy?” Theo argued. 

“Maybe. But our mission is still rolling. And there’s this witch I want to visit.”

Theo groaned at Draco’s plans. “And here I thought you’d stop thinking with your cock for a moment… That is what will ruin you, Draco! Not your father’s politics, but you letting your little soldier take the lead!” 

Draco laughed at Theo’s dramatics. It wasn’t like that. 

* * *

Nevertheless, Draco found himself walking back to the house belonging to the backyard he had almost died in a few days ago. Despite what he had told himself and Theo, he found his thoughts drifting back to the intriguing witch — and he didn’t even know her name, for Hippocrates’ sake! 

A medium wine from the Praefectus wine cellar in his hand, he knocked on the door. 

“What do you want?” She had opened the door without greeting. Had she known it would be him, or was she simply so impolite to greet every visitor like that? 

“ _ Ave _ …” he drifted off and curled his lips into a smile many women in Rome found irresistible. “See? I came to you to thank you for saving my life the other day, and I don’t even know my saviour’s name,” he said, carefully sheepishly. 

She seemed to ponder his sincerity, taking him in from head to toe. Draco felt naked under her gaze, but not the fun version of it, more like she would extract his most secret thought. Just when he had finished thinking that, he threw up his Occlumency shields. She frowned immediately but stepped back from the entrance. 

“Come in. The wine your people make is one of the few Roman things I do appreciate.” Then, she grew serious again. “And it’s not good for my reputation when a Roman soldier is seen on my doorstep.” 

“I am not much of a soldier, I am afraid,” Draco chuckled. Not that he lacked the ability to fight, quite the opposite really, especially when it came to use of his special powers. But much to his father’s disappointment and his mother's relief, he had never had found interest in leading a group of men into the battle. 

“You Romans all are soldiers,” the woman added. 

Instead of replying to the jab, he asked, “What is your name?” 

“You aren’t easy to deter aren’t you?” 

To that, he gave an honest laugh. “No I am not. I am Draco Lucius Malfoy. And you are?” 

“I am Hermione.” 

“You’re Greek?” he asked before he could stop himself. 

Now, it was she who chuckled. “Well, look what we have here. A Roman with some brains in him. Yes, my name is Greek. But my ancestry is as Egyptian as it is Greek.” 

Draco was intrigued. This woman, Hermione, was not like the other girls he had met in Alexandria so far. Nor was she like the other women his age, though, most of them had been married for a few years and borne a few children. 

Hermione now tilted her head and gestured for him to sit down at the simple wooden table of what appeared to be her kitchen. She produced two mugs and a carafe of beer. 

“What? You’re not going to share my present with me?” 

She raised one perfectly curved eyebrow. “It is my present, isn’t it? And I am saving it for later. I am only offering a beverage because this is what one does.” She was certainly warming up to him. “Are you going to tell me what you really want here?” Again, amber eyes bore into his, and he braced himself for another mental probing, but none came. 

Though, her eyes were enchanting enough for Draco. For a second, he pondered if he should lie to her and, instead of retrieving information, charm his way into her sheets. It really was tempting because the curve of her hips and the soft swell of her bosom called to him. 

But he hadn’t come so far in Rome without ambition, and despite what his father pressed him to do, he genuinely wanted to fulfill his mission. “I did want to thank you for your help. While Theo, my friend, would have saved my life, I think I was much more adequately treated by your capable hands.” 

“You can turn off the charm, Draco. This doesn’t work with me,” she stated, coldly. Maybe she had fought off advances of another Roman before? 

“Give me a chance to explain myself, will you?” he replied firmly. “As I said, I am not a soldier. I am more of a scholar. Sent from Rome to learn about certain aspects of the Egyptian culture and religion.” Before he revealed his mission in detail, he needed her to trust him. Thus, he presented her only the most public level of his job in Alexandria. 

Her eyes gleamed with curiosity. “That means?” 

“That means, for example, I am reading old scripts about Egypt and seeing if the people of Alexandria confirm what stands in them.” To solidify his point further, he produced a parchment he had indeed brought here from Rome for the exact reason he had just described. 

“Put that away,” she commanded him after she had scanned the high quality parchment he had spent hours copying from. “It’s not worth its money written on it when it comes to our culture, especially if you want to learn about the present.” 

“How can you know that?” 

“Because the chronists of the past were Roman or Greek in this case.” She stepped behind him, placing her long, elegant index finger over a paragraph. “And this? Ridiculous.” 

“You can read Greek and Latin?” Draco was truly flabbergasted. 

Hermione expressed her disgust with a loud snort. “Of course I can read it! We do that here, too, did you know? It’s not only about hieroglyphs.” 

“That’s not what I meant-” he started, but she interrupted him again. 

Her eyes were blazing suddenly, and the air was suddenly dense of magic, the kind you felt when a thunderstorm was about to work chaos. She was gorgeous. “I know exactly what you mean, Draco Lucius Malfoy. You are not used to a woman who can write more than the list for the Greek slave to go to the market and actually read the laws that deem her her husband’s property.” He actually didn’t mean that, but he honestly was too fascinated by her outbreak that he didn’t want to interrupt her tirade. “I worked in the Library of Alexandria, a protegée and confidant of our Queen Cleopatra herself!” Defiantly, the woman raised her chin, demonstrating how proud she still was. 

Draco’s mind was reeling, storing every bit of information coming from her mouth away for later. 

“I can read and write many languages, and Latin is one of the most simple,” she stated arrogantly. Placing her hands on the table in front of him, she looked him dead in the eye and said, with a low hiss, “Until your Octavian came and destroyed it! Eternities of our history, of our culture, of our lives - lost in the fires brought by the Roman army!” 

Had she been anyone else, a man or a less charismatic woman perhaps, Draco would have left without another word. Maybe would have thrown the carafe to the wall for effect to show how a member of the patriarchy didn’t like to be treated like this. But instead, he sat there, at Hermione’s table, and took a sip from the beer, praying his libido would calm down. Not that he had a masochistic kink, but this strong, vibrant, voracious woman fascinated him. After setting down his beverage again, Draco met her gaze. Her cheeks bore a slight blush from her passionate words. 

As neutral as he could, he said, “So you are a daughter of Isis?” 

Apparently, she hadn’t expected this reaction. “Yes, I am.” 

Draco smiled. “I have heard a lot about your practices and—” 

“So we are finally getting to the real reason why you came to me.” 

What was it about this woman and her interrupting him? Caught between fascination and annoyance, he wanted to explain, but, yet again, she continued without waiting for his input. “For the carnal pleasures and sex rites my sisters and I are supposed to be so proficient in.” 

“No!” He stood, hands raised in defence. 

But she only pulled at his wrist, her grasp surprisingly strong, and pushed him towards the door. “When it comes to sex, you men are all the same, aren’t you? Go and try your luck elsewhere!” She made a hand gesture that vaguely reminded him of a wand movement, but when the door was slammed closed just a handbreadth before his elegant nose, Draco only stared at the wooden surface, discombobulated. 

What had just happened? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued showers of love for niffizzle and mcal - they are absolutely perfect <3
> 
> *Trigger Warnings for this chapter: mentions of sexual abuse*
> 
> Also, a hint of non-Dramione lemon, but not quite.

When he met with Theo again later that evening, this time in his own house, Draco was still in a mood. 

“What happened that you are looking like Severus when the beetle eyes are out?” his friend joked.

“Nothing,” Draco denied, his fingers almost crushing the mug of wine. In truth, he felt as if he had swallowed the precious beetle eyes himself. 

“Draco, you seem to forget I’ve known you most of our lives.” Theo scrutinized him and his posture. “It’s this Egyptian woman, isn’t it? What did you do?” 

“I really don’t know,” Draco growled. “One moment she was ranting about her language talents, the next she was throwing me out.” He placed the wine on a low table next to him with unnecessary force. “I had just started my investigation.” 

“Maybe you hit a sore spot with your prodding?” Theo suggested. “The women here are even more complicated than at home. Just leave her be, as I already said, and try your luck elsewhere.” 

“I should probably do that.” Draco leaned back on the lounge, defeated. “But Theo, she is special. She can read and-” 

“And she has a nice arse, agreed.” Theo had apparently had enough of the topic and steered the conversation elsewhere. “What else I agree upon is that you definitely could use some… distraction of the Aphrodisian kind.” He grinned shrewdly, and Draco groaned. 

“Who is it this time?” Really, he wasn’t in the mood for one of Theo’s distractions. 

“Just two proper Egyptian ladies. They are the Praefectus’ cook’s daughters.” He snapped his fingers, and, as if they had been waiting for the signal, which they probably had, entered the atrium. 

Draco forced a smirk on his face. “Theo, you are a menace. Why don’t you take the ladies to your home? I bet you can cater to them equally.” Usually, he wouldn’t have hesitated to pull the lovely woman who approached him now on his lap. After all, he was quite fond of the carnal pleasures. But today was… different. 

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t share with you?” A female giggle followed Theo’s words, and Draco glanced over to him. Theo was already busy divesting the woman in front of him of her clothes. He only pulled at a sash on her thin cotton robe, and she stood before him, naked, the round, pert backside clearly visible to Draco. 

The blond felt his loins reacting to the naked skin and offered goods, and decided to ban all thoughts of Hermione from his mind. “Your sister is a beautiful woman, isn’t she?” he spoke to the woman who had settled on his lap. 

“And just as talented as I am,” she offered coyly. Her hands wandered over his legs, still clad in his toga. 

She indeed was as beautiful as her sibling, and he felt his cock stiffening at the sight of her pebbled nipples visible under the thin fabric covering her. “Prove it,” he suggested, voice husky with lust. 

* * *

_ “You! _ ” He didn’t bother with a decent  _ Ave _ this time. With all that had happened to him since he had left her house yesterday, he was way beyond a polite greeting.

Hermione welcomed him with a raised eyebrow that would have made his mentor proud and a smirl that rivalled his own. “ _ Morituri te salutant _ , Draco Lucius,” she replied, sarcastic. “What brings you to my doorstep on this lovely morning?” 

He felt his anger rise to the tip of his ears, praying that he didn’t have a bout of accidental magic in public. “You know exactly what brings me here. You wicked woman and your witchcraft!” he seethed, but her smirk merely broadened. Even so, she stepped aside to let him in. 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” 

“It is where I come from.” He rushed inside and waited until Hermione had closed the door behind her, still grinning.

“Are you threatening me?” 

“Yes, because you cursed me!” 

“I did no such a thing!” She pretended to be shocked, pressing her palms against her chest. 

Draco felt the focus of his ire deterring by the simple sight of her hands resting against her bosom, but forced out, “You did! You made me-” 

“What did I make you?” she challenged, all humour gone. 

“You made me fail to-” 

“Come on, Draco. Use your words of which you had so plenty yesterday.” Her voice had turned icy, and that alone cooled his anger. 

“You made me impotent.” Admitting it out loud made it even worse. The previous evening, he had been so embarrassed that his member wouldn’t stay erect that he had made his female companion forget that part of the night with a bit of magic. Thankfully, Theo had been too busy with the other woman that he hadn’t noticed Draco’s dilemma. 

“Maybe.” Hermione shrugged.

“Maybe? You punished me for asking a few questions!” 

“I executed a bit of payback because you wanted to sweet talk me into sex!” 

Upon her sudden yelled accusation, Draco felt cold dread creeping into him. 

“Hermione, listen!” 

“No!” She slammed her hands on the table. Somehow, they had reached her kitchen again, and it was as if they hadn’t paused their conversation, or rather, controversy at all. “You are all the same! Either you pretend to be interested in a woman, just to leave her alone and feeling stupid, or you are the blunt kind and simply ask for sex, not really caring if the answer is ‘no!’ I merely taught you a lesson!” 

“I am sorry.” Draco raised his hands. To further alleviate the tension, he sat down, bringing himself to a position in which she was taller than him. More in control. “I am sorry that something bad happened to you, apparently,” he repeated, his voice soft. It was the same timbre he used back home when training horses. Looking at Hermione, there definitely were some parallels: she was strong, powerful, and still so vulnerable. 

“I wasn’t raped,” she admitted, looking down, “but it was a close call a few times. Defending myself with some useful tricks I learned from my mentor helped a lot.” She raised her head, looking him in the eyes. Hers were of a wild, swirling brown, and Draco could almost feel the conflict cursing behind them. “But many of my sisters weren’t that lucky, nor did they have my means of defence. Your Roman brethren-- some of them are dangerous for young, unmarried women. They all think the daughters of Isis are too keen to share our ‘special talents’ with them.” 

Draco could only nod. He was no saint, but he only went to bed with women who were willing. Though, he was regretfully aware that some of the other men under the Praefectus’ command didn’t care about consent. 

She released a breath, a huff really. “Look, I know you probably are not half bad, but you sounded like you would ask me to do you some demonstrations of said ‘talents.’” It wasn’t an apology for her outbreak, but there was no real reason for it. 

“Oh, but I am asking.” His words made her glare return in the blink of an eye, but this time, he didn’t let himself be interrupted. “For information — just as I said I would.” 

She paused, pondering her reaction. “What kind of questions?” she challenged. 

That was when he knew he had her, though, he was aware that he had to tread carefully. “Nothing you aren’t offering freely. I am interested in your beliefs, your practices, your rules of living.”

“I want something in return.” 

“What do you want?” Even with his resources being far from limited, he couldn’t offer her his weight in gold. 

“I don’t know yet.” She tilted her head, and he felt her intrusion to his mind tickling on the edges of it. But this time, he had already pulled up his shields. 

“Maybe you aren’t as useless you appear to be,” she said, thoughtfully. “I have a lot to do today, but if you do mean it seriously, come back tomorrow evening.” 

Feeling that this was the end of the conversation, Draco rose from the table and walked towards the door. 

“And you should also bring some wine when I think about it.” 

Draco grinned, liking that this woman knew what she wanted. Which wasn’t necessarily the same  _ he _ wanted. “I will come back tomorrow.” 

Nodding her goodbye, Hermione was about to close the door, when something struck him. “Wait!” With the palm of his hand, he held the door open. “What about my… infliction?” 

She smiled at him, but the humour was entirely at his expense. “It was just a temporary curse, you don’t need to worry. Your cock should be ready to use again by now.”

Of course, this was the moment a group of young Roman soldiers passed the house. 

Draco felt the urge to send a slight Stinging hex her way, but her tingling laugh distracted him, and then she had closed the door. An unseen force pushed Draco back, and once more, he found himself on the street in front of Hermione’s house. And, again, he asked himself what was happening here. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, thank you for your support concerning this story! This was such a fun chapter to write, though one should probably not be too strict with historical accuracy here.
> 
> Heaps of love to mcal and niffizzle for their incredible help.
> 
> Imperator: originally being a title for a victorious leader, Imperator is part of Octavian's Emperor name. The word Emperor stems from this title.
> 
> pater patriae: 'father of the fatherland,' another honorary title for a Roman leader, given by the Senate, here also used for Octavian.

Before he could revisit Hermione the next evening, Draco was called to see the Emperor himself. 

Unlike his father with an owl, Augustus’ way of summoning was a bit more pretentious - it was a counterfeit coin, charmed to glow when he activated it. Or rather,  _ had _ it activated, most probably by Severus, who was also the person who invented this method of communication and transport. 

Knowing one did not let the Emperor of the _Imperium Romanum_ wait for long, Draco hasted to a secluded area in the administration of Alexandria. With a tap of his wand, he activated the coin and immediately felt an unpleasant pull just behind his navel. After being simultaneously stretched and compressed for a bit, he opened his eyes again and stood in the Emperor’s Palace. His stomach churned, and only with deep, measured breaths Draco could stop his _ientaculum,_ his morning meal, from spilling over the marble floor. 

“This method of travelling will never be widely adopted, Uncle.” With his first, coherent words after landing, Draco addressed Severus whom he had spotted waiting. 

“Don’t fret, Draco. Octavian is already waiting for you.” Severus turned on his heels and left the room with billowing robes. 

Draco almost rolled his eyes behind the other man’s back, for he knew how his godfather was when he was working. 

Severus had only been the Caesar’s official consultant since the conflict with Sextus Pompeius, but he had been his teacher in his childhood. Even though Octavian wasn’t of magical inheritance, his grandmother had brought him under Severus tutelage. It was always good to recognise when an enemy tried to kill you with poison, and Severus was a leading Potion Master.

“What brings this sudden meeting? It’s not a routine check-in, I suppose?” Draco inquired while he followed Severus through the long hallways of the palace. The room he had arrived in needed special warding, and even with that, they couldn’t risk a low-level administration member to stumble into it by accident. With the melting pot that the Roman Empire was, Octavian did well to conceal his close magical contacts.

“You know how curious the Emperor is, Draco. But, no, that is not the only reason why he ordered you here.” Severus frowned. “Yesterday, one of the senate members was found dead with an Egyptian symbol engraved in his chest.” 

“Who?”

“Tiberius Aponius.”

“Not someone who keeps my father’s company,” Draco remarked. He didn’t even remember Lucius mentioning the senator, so the man probably hadn’t been someone of importance. “Done by some separatists probably,” Draco surmised, well aware of the fact that Egypt wasn’t entirely content with being under Rome’s command. 

“Obviously. But the scandal isn’t the murder. The scandal is that the senator’s wife was caught in bed with her female slave and another senator and his wife just a few rooms away from the crime site”—Draco gasped accordingly here—“and they all swear the slave, a member of the Isis cult, bewitched them.” 

Draco groaned. That was going to be fun. Though Hermione had not been very forward with her information so far, he knew that the members of the religion were a peaceful people. But, of course, the orgy that no one would’ve raised an eyebrow at normally was a thing of suspicion in the probably accidental connection with a senator’s murder. 

The Emperor waited for him in one of the rooms reserved for meetings like this one: partly informal, but also related to Rome’s well-being. The only persons nearby were two guards in front of the entrance who closed the door behind Severus and Draco. Instantly lowering his head, Draco waited until Augustus had acknowledged him. 

“ _ Ave,  _ Caesar!” he then greeted, and waited for the reply. 

“ _ Salve,  _ Draco!” 

Lifting his head, Draco looked into the Emperor’s face. He was a handsome man with a certain power that he held over people just by looking at them. If Draco didn’t know better, he’d supposed the man was a Legilimens. 

“I trust my advisor has already informed you about this unpleasant situation we’re in?” Draco nodded and Octavian continued. “It isn’t the murder alone that caused the stirring of certain rumours among the Patricians and the Senate itself. It’s the circumstances.” The Imperator got straight to the point, just as he always did. After all, he had the world’s largest region to reign over. 

“The connections to Egypt and the implications that the Isis cult is involved, I guess,” Draco voiced what was already in his head. 

“Yes. And this is where you and your task come in. How much can you tell me already?” 

Draco fidgeted. “I am still finding out the inner workings of the followers. It’s not easy, though. Not many trust me and still are a bit… wary of the new peace you brought upon the country.” 

Octavian gave a short, but honestly amused laugh. “I am not surprised. Depending on whom you ask, I am the most dangerous enemy to Egypt’s culture. But I need answers, Draco. Soon. I have just handled most of the controversies within the Senate, and I won’t handle a new quarrel again so soon.” 

If the Imprerator was straightforward, so would be Draco. “You are expecting that such a thing could break out over the fact that the Isis cult has reached a limited kind of popularity among the inhabitants of Rome?” 

“Partly, yes. But I am more interested in getting to know their potential. My father once said there were two reasons why he fell in love with Egypt’s queen: her stunning personality and the powerful magic surrounding her wherever she set foot in her kingdom. It took me a while to recognize that he meant magic in a literal way and not simply her attractivity.” The Emperor leaned forward and lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “I have to know how powerful the magic he hinted at really is.” Octavian didn’t need to add  _ ‘and see if we can use it for our means,’ _ for in the circles Draco was brought up in, this type of hidden meaning was always implied. 

“I might have secured a contact that could bring us the required information.” 

“Is he a reliable informant for the real practises behind the cult?” 

“ _ She _ is,” Draco corrected without any further information. Behind him, he could hear Severus taking a sharp breath. 

“Ah, yes. Of course, it is a woman. I am not surprised, Draco Lucius.” 

Draco had the decency to blush under the Caesar’s leering smirk.

“Is it coincidence, or did you pick her intentionally?” 

“It was more of a coincidence,” Draco admitted. 

Something in his posture or his face must have given him away, for the Emperor inquired further, “But a happy one, I guess? It should be no problem for you to charm every single piece of information we need out of her.”    
  


Inappropriately, Draco snorted. “I’ll try, but I doubt my charm will get me anywhere with her. She is… special.” 

A slight frown appeared on his Caesar’s face. “That sounds suspiciously like you are developing a bond with her, Draco. Be careful, my loyal follower. Greater men than you have fallen in love with a woman of Egypt — and more than once the raising of arms of Romans against Romans was the consequence of it. Make wise decisions and choose virtue over love.” 

Draco nodded, properly chided. He knew Octavian was referring to not only the first Caesar, but also Antonius. 

“Although, that shouldn’t stop you from partaking in all the carnal festivities offered to you and reporting back to me in every detail.” The sound of his laughs that followed demonstrated that even though he set the goal to become _ Pater Patriae _ and did everything in his power to make it true, Octavian was still a young leader for such a huge Empire. Young, but compared to his predecessors, with an aura around him that made the Senate and people of Rome hope for peace. 

“I will, Augustus.” Draco bowed with a smile and knew this was the end of their discussion. 

Relieved, he left the room with Severus by his side. 

“You better take his warnings seriously, Draco,” his godfather warned as soon as they had some privacy. “No matter how charming and open that woman is, she can’t be more important than your mission.” 

“Calm down, Severus,” Draco replied. “It’s not as if I had more than a few conversations with her. No intimate touching involved. Though, I think she almost slapped me.” Draco grinned, knowing exactly which buttons to press with Severus. 

“No wonder your father wants you to marry as soon as possible. Your shenanigans are getting to your head!” Severus fumed. “If you want to take your father’s seat in the Senate or get your own once you’ve undergone the  _ cursus honorum _ , you better remember the Roman values.” 

Draco sighed. “Uncle, don’t fret. The woman I was referring to is not just a practitioner of the Isis cult. She can even read Latin and Greek. She is a true witch.” 

This time, it was Severus’ turn to sigh. “In other words: she is dangerous because she is smart.” 

“You would like her!” Draco said, laughing and flipping the coin in the air, bracing himself for being transported back to Egypt. 

He had already known about the dangers of his endeavour; the only thing that this summoned visit to Rome had provided was hearing it directly from Augustus’ mouth. Now, he couldn’t wait to work on his mission again. Especially when he knew he was due to knock on Hermione’s door in a few hours. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is a little late (almost a week) becauses I wanted to finish writing the next one before uploading this. But I am a veeeeery slow writer and was too busy this week.
> 
> Thank you for supporting me and brightening my mood with every single review. If you have any questions concerning the hostorical context, please feel free to ask! And sorry, I am still horrible about answering reviews...
> 
> Thank you to two very talented writers who have my back - and more often than not have to listen to my self-pity and build me up again: niffizzle (alllll the typos and commas she corrects) and mcal (THE LOVELY CAPS!)

This time, she opened with a smile. 

“Oh look, there’s my wine!” 

Draco handed her the amphore with a chuckle and entered. “ _ Ave _ to you too, Hermione!” He added a short bow for effect but she only laughed. 

Quickly, she poured the two of them a generous amount of wine. “You are a bit pale. Maybe you should eat something.” 

“I am always this pale,” he commented, but grabbed a piece of bread with honey nonetheless. 

“Are you using some kind of potion then to keep your skin from darkening? Or is it a charm?” 

Draco almost choked on his bite. “Excuse me?” he sputtered. 

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow in question. “Are you trying to fool me? You want information from me but think that you can keep the fact that you and your little friend wield magic to yourself?” 

To buy time to think of a reply, Draco chewed slowly and carefully. “Again, I am sorry. Admitting it openly is strange for me. In Rome, we are quite used to hiding it.” 

“Well, you are not doing a very good job of it, are you?” 

“What do you mean?” Panic rose in him. He and Theo had been so careful, and it was essential they were, for the wrong people in the Roman patriarchy had their eyes everywhere and they were afraid of all magic. 

“What I mean is that anyone with an ounce of magic in them can feel it in you.” She scanned his troubled expression, and the teasing tilt of her voice had vanished when she said, “Don’t worry. To my knowledge, no one saw you waving around this stick, this disgrace of the Gods’ gifts.” 

In a span of seconds, Draco switched from relieved to insulted. He retrieved his wand from a holster hidden beneath his tunica. “What makes you so wary of this piece of wood? Are you afraid that my magic is more powerful than yours?” He leaned forward and swirled the wand in his hand. 

Hermione eyed it curiously for a moment before replying, “I am not afraid of something you can stoke a fire with. I am merely concerned you are going to poke someone’s eye out!” 

She tilted her head, focusing on it. “Show me what you can do with it!” 

Feeling challenged, Draco levitated the wine amphore with a swish and a flick and made it pour them some more wine. 

“That’s all?” She wasn’t impressed. 

“No, these are just some tricks. I don’t want to scare you,” he teased and decided on a whim to try something else. 

With a smooth movement, he brushed the fabric of Hermione’s clothing off her shoulder. Not by much, just enough to expose a bit more of her olive skin than before. 

She gasped, scandalised. “Oh, I bet that comes in handy in certain situations.” 

“It really does.” Draco smirked at her and demanded, “Now show me what the oh-so-talented witches of Egypt can do without a wand.” 

He had no idea when the atmosphere between them had changed. One moment, she was practically throwing insults at him, and now, she held his gaze with these huge, dark brown eyes while her teeth bit into her lush lips just so. He felt something in him calling for her, something far away from the Roman politics and the role Egypt played in it. 

“Give me your hands, Draco Lucius, and I will show you.” 

When he took Hermione’s hands without hesitation, Draco felt a gentle hum of magic where their skin touched. 

“It works without direct contact, but the magic flows better when we touch the person we’re working our magic on. Or rather, theirs.” She winked, and Draco felt his pulse accelerate a fraction. “You need to trust me with this, Draco. No masks, no hiding, no holding back. Everything that you will see is as real as it is not. Just go with the magic.” 

He nodded. After all, he had grown up with magic surrounding him. 

“Close your eyes now and concentrate on the magic flowing inside your body. Can you feel it?” 

Doing as instructed, he relaxed into her words. He must have nodded, for she said, “Good. Now let your imagination lead you to a place you feel comfortable. Where you can let yourself go.” 

His imagination took him to his home in Rome. His bedroom in the villa he had inherited from his grandfather, as was traditional in his family. He rested on his bed, on the soft fabric he was privileged to. 

“Are you there? Great.” Hermione’s voice sounded far away now, though he felt her through their connected hands. “And now, you’ll have a visitor. A woman or man whom you are familiar with or not, that isn’t important. What is important is that they are there to do you a favour, expecting nothing in return.” 

The humming of her magic amplified and grew to a stream of sparks, dancing towards his own magic and suddenly, pushing into it. He gasped. It wasn’t painful, just very intense. 

He heard a knock. Or at least, he thought he heard one. Someone had knocked on his bedroom door and then entered. 

“What are you doing here?” 

It was Hermione. Yet, it  _ wasn’t _ Hermione. The Hermione in his vision wore a thin slip of an almost see-through cotton. In fact, Draco could see her dark nipples through the fabric. Hermione herself was looking at him with a serene smile that bore neither malice nor temper, but a certain spark of... lust? 

“What are you here for?” he asked again. 

But the Hermione holding his hands commanded, “Shhhh. Whoever it is. They are there to serve you in a very special way. Relax, Draco. Everything is alright.” 

The calming timbre of her words made Draco concentrated on the sparsely clad witch. Gone was any sense of ambiguity. When dream Hermione opened her mouth to speak, it was his entire reality. 

“Sit down, please,” she ordered him. 

Doing as she said, Draco observed the way her hips swayed when she walked over to him. His mouth was dry, and the sensual spark in her eyes nearly stopped his breathing. 

When she stopped before him and lowered herself to her knees directly in front of him, he had no doubt about what she was there for. 

With a snap of her fingers and a seductive smile, she vanished his clothes. Though, he didn’t feel naked before her, not exposed. Only empowered, proud. His growing erection was nothing he had to hide over. 

Hermione must have spotted it, too, for she reached for it with a lustful expression. Her olive skin had taken a pink colour, which caused Draco’s cock to harden. She was lush, exotic, and her intellect called to his. 

As he now realised, Hermione was more than an attractive woman to Draco; she was an entirely different class of sexy. But only in this vision, this fantasy, could he have her like that. In reality, there was too much pride, too many obstacles, involved between the two of them. Here, he could let the magic swirl, give in to its calling. 

He sighed when Hermione’s precise fingers encircled his length. But they did nothing to ease the tension — quite the opposite. When her mouth opened and her soft, pink lips joined her fingers, Draco prayed to all the Gods listening to provide some sexual stamina. Though, as soon as her tongue darted out, encircling the tip of his cock and the sensitive underside of it, he knew the prayers would be in vain. 

The moan that escaped his throat resonated through the otherwise empty room. Hermione smiled sinfully and proudly before she engulfed him wholly with his lips.

Draco didn’t know in or out anymore; his entire body was tingling. The magic,  _ his  _ magic, that had been coursing through his veins throughout his entire life, was singing. But at the same time, he was strangely detached from it. His mind was more focused on the fantastic woman, the witch, in front of him, and the incredible feelings she incited. This magical creature was now sucking his hard erection with abandon. Draco had been given head by quite some persons, female and male, but Hermione… Hermione was perfection. He could not only feel her on his skin, not only register the touch of her hands playing with his balls. He could also feel her, a connection. An intimate connection.

Draco was panting harder, his moans building up to a sweet symphony with Hermione’s enraptured sighs. He dared opening his eyes, and with immense effort, he concentrated on the woman between his legs. 

“Hermione,” he moaned, he pleaded, he prayed. Her beautiful, brown eyes flew open at his words, and Draco’s breathing stopped, knowing instantly this beautiful view would be the point of no return for him. He wanted to warn her, to say that he was about to spill his essence into her mouth, but the words, the words didn’t come. Yet his orgasm was approaching with high speed. He inhaled, ready to hand himself to the bliss-

“That’s enough.” 

The voice was firm and soft as she ordered him back to reality with it. 

And he followed her orders. His eyelids were fluttering, but they flew open instantly. 

Hermione, the real Hermione, stood in front of him, still holding his hands. The olive skin of her cheeks bore the faintest hue of pink, but that was all. 

Draco, on the other hand, could feel his heart hammering against his sternum. Strangely, he didn’t have an erection, nor did he feel the traitorous wetness of his spunk on his clothes. 

He wanted to say something, anything, but before he had full command of his language, Hermione said, “And now, I want you to cast a spell. Levitate that scroll to the shelf, but don’t use your words. Just feel the magic.” Slowly, she let go of his hands. 

In retrospective, Draco couldn’t explain how he did it. 

His entire life, he had used his wand as the physical manifestation of the connection between his core magic and the outside world, like a key that is necessary to open the door — only that he discovered that the door was now wide open. 

Draco inhaled sharply when the scroll of parchment was lifted into the air by an invisible force and straightly flew to the shelf the witch had mentioned. All he had done was  _ think _ it. 

“Caesar’s left testicle!” was the first coherent thing he could splutter in astonishment. 

He focused on Hermione again, and she smiled at him smugly. “And now you have a first hand experience of the Isis magic to report back to your meaningless Emperor in Rome.” 

Draco sat down, needing to process what had just happened and organising his thoughts. Hermione didn’t seem surprised and rummaged around her kitchen, humming an unfamiliar melody while she did. 

“Is it always…” Draco managed to say after what felt like hours. 

Hermione, with a small cauldron in her hands, turned around and smiled at him. “Sexual?” She grinned. 

“I’d prefer  _ intimate,  _ but yes.” Draco couldn’t look her in the eyes while he corrected her. Too fresh was the memory of her, practically naked in front of him and bringing him so close to the pinnacle of pleasure. 

“Mostly. Something about the heightened state of lust causes men and women”—Draco felt a spark of arousal at imagining her with another woman, not proud of his mind’s primitive wandering—“to gain deeper access to their own magic while Muggles simply feel a lot more powerful and in control of their resources, leading them to make decisions they had delayed or hadn’t felt competent enough for.”

“So what you are saying is that I’m using my wand as a crutch?” Draco said, his words sounding harsher than he intended. 

Hermione’s smile softened, and she stepped closer. So close, in fact, that he could see the light reflecting in her shiny brown curls. They had felt so soft wrapped around his fingers when he gripped them and urged her closer to his cock… 

“Yes and no. You need to understand that while your magic is efficient and powerful, it also lacks grounding and playfulness and a certain intensity.” 

Draco agreed and swallowed his pride. Hermione was just comparing, not judging. 

But then, her eyes started to sparkle with something. “Draco, do you have any idea what you could achieve by combining both approaches to magic?” 

Her words brought a catalysis of ideas, of possibilities, of vague futures to the forefront of Draco’s thinking. “Not entirely. But do you know how dangerous your special way of magic is for the Roman Empire?” 

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, I have an inkling. But the Empire is just a bunch of men that are afraid of a bit of sex.” 

“I am a personification of the Empire, Hermione,” Draco threw in. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a certain layer of curiosity in her voice. “The more I get to know you, the more I think you are not a common Roman citizen or the average wizard, bending to Augustus’ every will.” Then, her smile became mischievous. “But the more important question is”—she caught Draco’s gaze—“Are you afraid of a bit of sex?” 

He had to get out before his primitive urges gained control of his actions entirely. The smirk his lips formed was hopefully of the convincing and confident sort. “For that answer, we have to get to know each other a bit better, don’t you think?” 

She laughed, and Draco seized his chance to position himself near the entrance. “Maybe I will find some more shiny scrolls for you to read and trade for information?” She nodded, still leaning against the table. 

Leaving Hermione’s house, Draco’s thoughts were all over the place. He wanted to meet her again; she was a precious source of information. 

Furthermore, a realisation burned like sour wine in his stomach, he liked her. Even when he was aware that she meant trouble. 

_ Especially  _ when she meant trouble. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi! I hope you like this chapter as much as I do. I had so much (maybe too much?) fun writing it.
> 
> Thank you to my support team: my beta niffizzle and mcal - without them, I probably wouldn't write anything.
> 
> Skip if you want to: some explanations that could make things a bit more understandable:
> 
> cena = main meal, usually eaten in the afternoon
> 
> Tesserarius = a rank (or rather: a function) in the Roman army; a watch commander who ranked higher than the "normal" miles.
> 
> Vigintisexvir = lit. "Twenty-six men"; minor magistrate rank; for many senators' sons the position before the cursus honorum (major magistrate) so they could one day become senators themselves (this is Draco here)
> 
> Primus Pilus = lit."first spear"; the first centurion of the first cohort in a legion; the highest soldier if you will

Of course, Draco returned to Hermione’s house. He had been vibrating with energy for the rest of the day when he had left her two days ago. 

This time, he brought a quill and a roll of fresh papyrus to write on. He wanted to take notes on what Hermione taught him. They didn’t exactly have a standing agreement to meet, but since it was his main task to research the cultural rules and practises she was following, he thought it prudent to show up unannounced. 

Just when he raised his hand to knock on her door, it opened. A man stepped out, about the age of Draco’s father, he estimated, and greeted Draco with a nod. 

He replied, “ _ Ave _ ,” automatically, because that was how he was taught to greet, especially men of his standing. The man had the posture and clothes of someone who was used to people following his orders, though he didn’t appear unkind. Instantly, a feeling that tasted a lot like jealousy creeped up in Draco; although, he was well aware that he had no right. 

Hermione stood in the door, apparently seeing the man out. 

His scepticism must have shown on his face because Hermione’s smile changed to a frown. 

“Welcome, Draco. I didn’t expect you today.” 

“Shall I leave again?” he all but seethed. 

Her frown deepened. “That’s not what I wanted to imply. However, if you’re behaving like a toddler, you better go home.” 

Draco exhaled, trying to let go of the unsavoury feelings he felt. He  _ knew  _ he had no right. He knew he wasn’t hers. 

“Again, I need to apologise,” he admitted sheepishly. “I am aware that you have a life that doesn’t include me. But it is kind of triggering my instinct to lash out.” 

Her frown transformed into a smile. “You surprise me yet again, Roman magician. “ She closed the door behind them. “Your honesty is something I didn’t expect from a patrician like you are.” 

“Doesn’t mean it is easy for me,” Draco admitted, growling a bit. 

Hermione laughed. “Draco, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this. Men tend to be a bit… protective of me when they have gone through a private meeting.” 

“So I am what to you - a client? Someone who pays you?” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. After regret came annoyance, and he slammed the hand against the nearest wall. “Circe, you are bringing forth the worst sides of me.”

“First of all, you haven’t paid me, nor do I want you to,” Hermione said sternly. “Secondly, I can’t see anything wrong with you being open about your mistaken feelings.” 

Those last words were softer, and they soothed Draco’s ego. 

“That simply isn’t the way I’ve been raised.” 

“But that’s the way you are now.” She shrugged. And just when Draco thought of a way to change the topic, as he wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing his emotions openly, Hermione had finally spotted the scrolls in his hand. 

“Maybe you’ve brought an adequate payment after all,” she remarked, now smiling. 

“Most of this is for me to write on, unfortunately. But here are a few passages from some Greek texts I’d like to hear your opinion on.” 

“Get the tales and myths out then.” 

Draco couldn’t tell what excited him more: making progress on his mission to gather information or the prospect of working side by side with this witch, whose eyes were sparkling with knowledge — and even a bit of joy for being with him. 

The Roman wizard was used to working with scholars. For all his weaknesses, Lucius Malfoy had always hired the best of teachers for his son in his childhood, and when Draco became an adult, he continued to study. Of course, he had to undergo intensive training to become and stay a member of the Empire’s army, but Draco had used his privileges — unfair as they may seem — to stay away from the swords most of the time and dedicate himself to the wand. All in all, he was more than equipped to recognise the intellectual gem he had found in Hermione. 

Now that they had reached a certain level of understanding, she gave information freely. Draco could barely take a breath between taking notes, posing questions, and listening to her avidly. On top of that, she was a brilliant storyteller, and she skilfully manipulated him to tell about himself. 

When he looked out of the window after what felt like an hour, Draco was surprised to see the sun almost set. They had chatted away all afternoon. 

“I have surely missed  _ cena _ ,” he murmured. 

“So you are a normal man, after all!” Hermione giggled. “I had begun to worry.” 

“I am a man alright.” Draco straightened his back, trying to cut an impressive figure, which was a tad difficult after being hunched over parchment for such a long time. 

“Are you? So you are telling me that you didn’t see yourself being seduced by parchment and scripts when I gifted you with that erotic trip the day before yesterday?” Her voice spoke of teasing, but there was an undertone that made Draco think she was more than a bit curious. 

“No,” he replied firmly, the image of Hermione sucking him off still clearly on his mind. “I am sorry to disappoint you.” 

The conversation turned to scheduling another meeting two days later and saying goodbye, but Draco suddenly felt bold and mischievous. That was why, when he stepped out of Hermione’s house, he leaned closely towards her and whispered next to her ear, “If you really want to know — I saw you, Hermione. And I can’t stop thinking about this glorious picture.” 

He felt her breathing catch before he turned away and left. 

A bit light-headed, he could admit that for the first time, he felt victorious leaving her. 

Though, in what battle, he wasn’t entirely sure yet.

* * *

When he arrived to visit her again two days later, she opened her door with an open smile that told him she was indeed happy to see him. 

“Draco! I actually spoke of you just a few minutes ago.” 

Draco tilted his head, confused. “What? With whom?” 

“A couple of my sisters are here.” 

Then, he heard some soft giggling from inside. 

“They were about to leave.” 

Draco had barely set foot into Hermione’s house when half a dozen women of different ages headed their direction. Whenever he had seen the daughters of Isis in public, they had appeared calm and oozed a type of compulsion that was typical for many priests and priestesses, independent of their religion. But the women approaching him were just that — women. 

“ _ Ave _ , Draco!” one greeted him, while the next one hid her laugh behind her hand. Two others, about Hermione’s age, scrutinised him, and it was no doubt that they liked what they saw. 

“You’re terrible,” Hermione said while shooing them out of her house. 

Draco watched them leave and then directed his attention back to Hermione. “Did you tell them about me?” 

“Yes.”

“And what did you tell them?” 

“That you are too curious for your own good.” She winked at him and proceeded walking into the house.

Seemingly having developed some kind of routine, the two of them started working. First, Hermione explained some more insights into how the Daughters of Isis worked, and Draco was once again surprised by how the priestesses maintained a normal day-to-day life while also fulfilling the role as a religious leader. Some of them were married and had children, but the majority lived as single women, just like Hermione. 

“So all of you possess magical abilities?” 

She inclined her head as if pondering the answer. 

“Yes and no. The ‘magic’ we use in most of our religious traditions and practices is not of the kind you know. We believe that every woman has the talent to use it as long as she learns, over the years, how. But the more challenging customs, like the experience I bestowed on you — stop smirking, you donkey — I’d say maybe a quarter of us has the power to use magic like that. The rest”—she wordlessly levitated one of the parchment scrolls from the table and smacked him over the head—“s just a bonus.” 

“Fascinating!” Draco said before smacking a different scroll of parchment on her head by hand. “Twenty-five percent is so much greater than the fraction of magical people in Rome. ’If they all can do the things you can do, Rome could be brought to her knees by the force of you witches.” He said the latter with a little less humour because that was exactly one of the things Augustus was concerned about. 

“Yes, but not everyone is as good with magic as I am. I am exceptional with my talents. This is why I was chosen to work under Cleopatra’s tutelage.” 

Too many women in Rome, even the witches, were taught to be docile, obedient little birds that had to do what the patriarchy expected them to, and their amount of freedom depended largely on their family’s position in the society. Hermione was different, and Draco was too lost in his fascination of her to quip something clever back about her arrogant statement. 

Finally, he snapped out of his musings and flattened one of the scrolls he had brought to the table. “My godfather sent me this. He suspected you could be interested.” 

As soon as the script was visible, Hermione gasped. 

“What is wrong?” 

Carefully, she traced her fingers over the edges. “You have no idea what this is?” 

Draco shook his head. 

“What about your godfather — can he read this?” 

“I am not sure. Though, you never know with the many talents of Severus.” 

His joke fell flat when he saw Hermione’s face. Her brows curved and her lips pressed together in a tight line. Draco knew she was deadly serious. 

Her gaze was wide with amazement. “This, Draco, is worth more than both of our lives!” 

“I need a bit more context to understand that,” he confessed. 

“You maybe are aware that the Library of Alexandria was founded by Ptolemaios I, a general of Alexander the Great?” Draco nodded. “And that in those times, it was common that the Egyptians confiscated all scripts they deemed worthy, copied them, and stored the original in the Library while handing the owners a copy?” His face must have shown confusion for she continued, “Well, as much as I condemn this practice, this certificate states that the originals have to remain in the Library at all costs. And that the librarians and those assigned with the task have to assure with all of their Gods given powers that the precious goods of the Library are protected.” 

Draco began to realise what that meant. “This was taken from the Library?” 

“It means I was right all along! You Emperor stole what’s mine to protect!” Before Draco could react, she asked,“Is there more?” 

Draco understood that she was asking if more original documents from the Library were in Rome. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He was well-read when it came to Roman history but had to rely on Severus’ knowledge when it came to this particular chapter of the archives. 

“I need you to find out,” she ordered. “And then, I must bring them back to Egypt. I’ll keep this one here.” 

Panic and anger rose in Draco. Did she really mean what she was saying? 

“No.” His voice was not loud, cutting through the room like a knife. 

But Hermione only gave a sarcastic laugh. “Really? You think you can simply tell me ‘no?’ We’re not in Rome, Draco. Don’t try treating you like one of the Roman women.” 

It was Draco’s turn to snort. “Believe me, I very clearly am aware of that. Which is exactly why you can’t follow your insane plan.” 

She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “The knowledge of Egypt needs to be protected! My Queen trusted me with this task, and I can’t possibly disappoint her!” 

“Your Queen, Hermione, is  _ dead _ !” He shook his head in disbelief at her stubbornness. “As  _ you _ will be if you keep up with that insane plan of yours.” 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Hermione’s dark eyes developed a dangerous glint, and he felt the unresolved magical energy in the air around them. But still, he couldn’t back down now. 

“The Emperor is already suspicious as it is when it comes to powers of the Isis cult, and this piece of parchment alone basically sets a bounty on your head. Especially if you steal it.” 

“So you expect me to keep my feet still and my head down?” She was yelling now. 

“I want to keep you safe! Because you are more important to me than some old piece of parchment!” he hollered back, on the verge of losing it.

“Do you know what I want to do to you right now?” 

“I’m not a Legilimens, so tell me!” Draco yelled back, now almost nose to nose with her. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know if I want to curse you or kiss you!” she threw at him, hands gesticulating wildly. 

“Well, you cursed me once already!” 

Hermione only gave a short, acknowledging nod, seemingly bracing herself. Then, she pulled at his toga and closed the gap between them. 

To say it was a soft or gentle or even romantic kiss would be a lie. 

The touch of their lips, the clash of their tongues bore too much excess energy that had been building between them since they had first met, at least from Draco’s perspective. 

Hermione continued pulling him closer, and in an effort to control her movement, Draco cupped the back of her head. Though, that only entangled his fingers in her curls, causing her to laugh against his lips. 

He didn’t give up, and with a swift move, he slung the other arm around her waist and pressed her against the wall. He pulled back from her mouth, only to trail soft, teasing kisses over the skin from where her dress started at her collarbone up to her ear. She moaned, visibly enjoying his ministrations. 

“What do you think about your choice now, Hermione?” 

“That I am not sure yet.” Her voice was breathy and hoarse. 

Draco chuckled. “Really?” He let his hand wander down from her waist to her thigh and lifted it, balancing her with the other arm. He lifted her leg all the way to his hip and stepped in the created space. 

She gasped when he pressed his unmistaken erection against the cradle of her thighs. Draco relished the sound and leaned his forehead against hers. He fought for control; he didn’t want to mess this up. And he was aware that as much as his body told him so, things between them shouldn’t escalate too quickly. 

“Because I am pretty glad you lifted the impotency curse before you kissed me and not the other way around.” Carefully, he let her go and stepped away. 

She was gorgeous like this, he noticed: face all flush and her hair an even more beautiful mess than usual. 

“I have to go now,” he explained, still a bit dazed. 

Upon her nod, she accompanied him to the door. He opened it, but she held him back with a grip on his arm. 

“This discussion isn’t over. I still want these scripts.” 

He turned and pressed a kiss on her lips. “I know,” he murmured. “I would be concerned about your health if a bit of snogging turned your memory into a void.” 

She smiled, and once again, Draco knew he had already lost his heart to an Egyptian Queen.

He saw Hermione waving before she closed the door. Though, when he turned, he crashed into someone. Recognising the Roman armor even in the sparse light of the early night, he knew he had run into a soldier. 

“ _ Ave _ , Draco Lucius,” the man greeted him. 

Draco wasn’t familiar with his name, but replied, “ _ Ave _ .” 

“I must apologise. Just came back from—” 

Taking in the wide eyes of the soldier, Draco finished, “From the taverna?” 

The man shrugged. “Some family drama I needed to digest.” Then, he pointed in the direction of Hermione’s house. “You should stay away from them. These Egyptian witches are dangerous!” 

Calmly, Draco approached the soldier. “It’s not in your power to decide what I do. Or do I need to remind you of your rank,  _ Tesserarius? _ ” He didn’t like it, but Draco knew when to play the hierarchy card. This young officer shouldn’t think he had anything to say when it came to Draco’s whereabouts, especially not considering the delicate nature of his mission and Hermione’s involvement in it. 

Jutting his chin, the soldier said, “Understood,  _ Vigintisexvir _ .” 

For a moment, Draco considered hexing the man, but they still were in public, and despite the late hour, they could be seen. A discussion with a rebellious soldier was much easier to explain than any magic. With a nod, he dismissed the man and waited until the other soldier had walked some distance away from him. 

* * *

The next morning, Draco was abruptly woken from his very vivid dreams of a certain witch. He groaned, the knocks on his bedroom door getting louder and louder. 

Finally opening his eyes, he realised he had overslept, and it was already mid-morning. That didn’t excuse the rude behaviour at the other side of the door. Just when he wanted to command his servant to shut up, someone barged into the room. 

“Draco!” It was Theo. And going by the rarely seen seriousness in his friend’s face, he had an urgent reason to appear in Draco’s bedroom. 

“What happened?” he demanded to know.

“The  _ Primus Pilus _ was murdered. And they are about to bring Hermione in for interrogation.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the people reading this story. I know it's something more unusual, but to me, this story is important.
> 
> Hugs and kisses and sqeals to niffizzle and mcal whose comments on the doc are everything.
> 
> Alright, some helpful explanations (skip if you don't like/need them)
> 
> Stercus: a Latin swear word
> 
> Cingulum and Pugio: both parts of the outfit that officially made a Roman man a soldier. The Cingulum is a leather belt, and the Pugio is a dagger, worn as a second weapon for the miles. There is a lot of symbolism behind this (but this isn't a history lesson ;) ).
> 
> fenestra: basically a window

Draco jumped out of bed after Theo’s news. “What?” 

“I’m not sure what exactly happened. But the _Praefectus_ demanded to borrow my owl to notify the Emperor. Apparently, this hasn’t been the first murder like that - with the Isis cult involved, I mean.” 

Draco nodded, knowing word travelled fast among the higher ranks and that the news of the senator’s murder and its circumstances had spread as far as Egypt by now. 

“How did the _Praefectus_ even suspect the cult and Hermione being involved?” Draco inquired, fastening his toga with haste. 

“Some soldiers have seen a brown and curly haired woman exiting the _Primus Pilus’_ house and one of them brought Hermione’s name in. There were some symbols found on the body connected to the Isis cult. She is known to be a priestess of the cult”—Theo paused, looking at Draco with a worried frown—“and to have a connection to you.” 

“ _Stercus!_ ” Draco cursed, ignoring the fact that he had lost his composure in the presence of the _milites_ waiting behind Theo. “Where is she now?” he pressed. 

“In her house, I presume. The owl should arrive in Rome around now, but I can’t tell what Augustus is going to do when he reads it.” 

Draco stopped his ministrations to attach his wand to its holster. “He is going to send Severus.” 

“The old bat?” 

“Yes, Theo. The old bat is one of the Emperor’s confidants. And you forget that the old bat is also one of the most proficient duellers in the Empire.” 

Chances were Augustus had sent Severus to take Hermione in for interrogation because the Emperor knew that she was a witch, and he wouldn’t risk her escaping. 

By now, Draco had finished dressing and turned to leave. But then, he stopped and took his _Cingulum_ from a hook by the door and fastened it around his waist before adding the _Pugio_ , this dagger being his second weapon after his wand. The leather belt signified the gravity of the situation as Draco rarely wore him because it officially marked him as a soldier. 

He gave Theo a grim nod; he was ready to go. To go and fight for Hermione. Because he would bet anything that she was innocent. 

“Tell your men they should stay behind,” he ordered. “I don’t want any more people involved than there already are.” Theo obliged and sent the _milites_ back. 

“What is your plan?” his friend then asked. 

“I don’t know. I’ll improvise, I guess. The only thing I know is that Hermione didn’t kill anyone.” 

“For all we know, she could have been planning this all along. Heck, she could have even orchestrated the snake biting one of us and―” 

Draco had Theo by the uniform and pinned to the wall in a blink of an eye. 

“All _I_ know is that she is a too proud, too arrogant, and too damn perfect Egyptian woman to have committed a crime like that!” 

Theo’s eyes widened upon Draco’s admission, not caring about his friend’s outbreak. “You really care about her, don’t you?” 

“Care doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Draco confessed, expressing what had solely been in his mind prior. “I can’t lose her. If something happens to her…” he trailed off, letting go of Theo. 

“Now before you summon another Rubicon scenario, shouldn’t we rather try and help her?” Theo clapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured for the exit. 

He was right. Draco had to help her. 

* * *

They marched to Hermione’s house, arriving just in time. Severus had already arrived and set a perimeter around the house to keep Muggles from seeing what was going on. 

Draco heard his godfather mumble something unintelligible and then saw a glossy sheen appear, knowing it was the spell of Severus’ own making that prevented any sound to come out of the zone, a spell he didn’t even share with Draco. 

He and Theo stepped through the barrier and were grimly greeted by Severus. 

“Draco, I had warned you.” 

“She’s innocent.” 

“Oh, and you know that because you have proof?” Severus snarled.

“I just… know!” It sounded weak even to Draco’s ears. “I don’t have any proof. But I know Hermione.” 

“Yes, she has your senses ensnared like a potion.” 

Sudden anger pulsed through Draco’s veins. “I am not joking. If it must be, I will defend her against you!” 

Hermione must have observed the situation in front of her house, or at least seen the soldiers standing in front of her door, for before Severus could say another word, waves of magic came pulsing from the house and threw the soldiers off their feet. 

He heard Severus gasp and couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. “She is strong!” 

“I told you so. She is not only magically strong but also smarter than any other witch I’ve met.” 

Severus whipped his own wand and was about to storm into the house with his wand ablazing. Draco knew, without a doubt, that Hermione could probably work magic equal to Severus’. But he also knew that this was a battle that shouldn’t be picked, had Draco any say. 

Suddenly concise, he gripped his godfather’s wand hand. “Let me.” Severus’ raised eyebrows prompted him to elaborate. “I’ll try and talk some sense into her. If you two get into a duel, I’m afraid Alexandria would burn. And because she’s innocent, we’ll resolve this the logical way.” 

The explosion following his words didn’t really emphasise his point, but seeing his godfather’s left eye twitch slightly when a part of the house’s roof landed not far from him told him Severus was slightly unsettled by the force of nature that Hermione was. 

“Don’t die,” he ordered. “I don’t want to explain to your mother that you were killed.” 

Straightening his shoulders, Draco gave Severus a nod and approached Hermione’s house.

He stopped for a moment to check on the soldiers. They were, thankfully, only unconscious, not dead, and Draco prayed that it would stay like that. Only because he didn’t want a real murder on Hermione’s head. Theo would take care of them.

His wand raised against any eventuality, he pushed the door open without knocking. “Hermione? It’s me, Draco.” 

“Draco?” Hermione asked back from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, surprise in her voice. A pause. Then, “Have you come to betray me and laugh while doing so?” 

“That’s not why I am here,” he tried to reason, keeping his voice calm. “Has anyone explained the situation to you?” 

“Partly. A man looking like a bat came knocking at my door with some soldiers in tow. He said he wanted to take me somewhere to talk but he didn’t explain why. He reeked of magic and his mind was closed, so I knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful.” 

Draco grinned to himself. He couldn’t wait to rub into Severus’ face the reasons why his godfather had failed. 

“That was Severus, my godfather and teacher,” he elaborated, carefully walking towards the kitchen. “He was supposed to bring you to Rome for interrogation.” 

“Why? I haven’t done anything that might be of Rome’s concern!” The fierceness in her voice brought another smile to Draco’s face. 

“I am convinced you haven’t done it,” he began, “But you are suspected to have murdered the _Primus Pilus_. Some symbols connected to the Isis cult were found at the crime scene and someone says they have seen you.” 

“What?” Hermione stepped into his view. Her curls wild and her face flushed, she was otherwise impeccable. 

_My Egyptian Queen_ , Draco thought to himself before lowering his wand. “That is why you should be brought before Augustus himself.” 

She eyed his actions warily. “But I didn’t murder anyone!” 

Draco placed his wand on the kitchen table. “You know that. _I know that._ But we need to prove it.” 

“Why should I prove anything to your leader?” she insisted stubbornly. 

“Because he is going to send an army after you otherwise. And not only you — you can defend yourself, as you just demonstrated thoroughly — but also after your sisters.” 

He didn’t understand the swell of expletives that followed his words. But he saw how Hermione clamped her eyes closed. When she opened them, there was a determination in them that made his heart stutter. 

“I can’t say I am not afraid, but I won’t let anything happen to my sisters. And I also have faith in you, Draco. Are you going to help me?” 

“That’s what I am here for. I am going to protect you with my life,” he said, and for the first time in his life, Draco knew he would indeed die for someone’s cause, or rather _someone_.

Hermione’s big brown eyes were focused on him when she placed her hand in his. “I trust you.” 

Upon her admission, he wanted to embrace her, bury his face in her hair, and pretend that the Imperium Romanum, Egypt, and the world around them didn’t exist. 

Instead, he pocketed his wand and forced himself to exhale heavily before closing the fingers of his second hand around the coin that would take them to Rome in a blink of an eye. 

“Thank you. I am not going to disappoint you.” 

* * *

She stumbled when they rematerialised. Draco had expected as much and steadied her with an arm around her waist. 

“Isis and Osiris, what happened?” 

Despite the situation, Draco smirked, enjoying the feel of her against him. “I could have warned you, but it’s more fun this way.” He pressed a kiss on her hairline before leading her to a nearby _fenestra_ . “Welcome to my hometown, _Roma._ ” 

As she peered out the window, he could practically see the questions forming in her mind, but before she could ask a single one, they were interrupted by Severus and his men appearing with an almost agitated noise. 

“You didn’t really expect to go alone, did you?” the man started without any introduction. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Draco replied sarcastically. 

“And I’ve already met Hermione.” 

“Come closer and I’ll set your toga on fire,” Hermione hissed as an answer to Severus’ greeting. 

“Calm down, I am fulfilling my duty to the Emperor. You wouldn’t have been hurt.” 

“You would have!” 

Gently gripping the witch by the elbow, Draco started leading Hermione towards the meeting room he suspected they were awaited in. “As much as I would like to let you familiarise with each other, I think we should go now. One doesn’t dawdle when the _Pater Patriae_ expects you.” 

Suddenly, Hermione’s mood turned sullen, as if she had remembered the reason for their visit to the heart of the Empire. Consequently, the walk to the reception room was spent in silence. 

When they stopped in front of the huge, ornate doors, they opened, and a handful of soldiers in full parade uniform walked out. They acknowledged Draco and Severus with a respectful _“Ave!_ ” but didn’t spare Hermione a glance. 

Draco thought he vaguely recognised one of them, but then one of the guards gestured for them to enter. 

“Come on. Let’s go inside.” 

He really wanted to hold Hermione’s hand, but he knew it wouldn’t be good in terms of appearance. Instead, he walked next to her, Severus walking behind her, and kept a respectable distance. Nevertheless, his Emperor’s first words upon entering were directed at him. 

“Hadn’t I warned you, Draco Lucius? About the toxic influence that Egyptian women, powerful and beautiful they may be, could have on a Roman patrician? Hadn’t I told you that this woman could be dangerous?” Augustus boomed, and Draco knew he meant business when he stood and left his seat on the marble pedestal. 

“You have, oh Caesar.” Respectfully, Draco sunk his head. 

“Needless to say, if this woman has murdered the _Primus_ , you will also pay.” 

These words, though he took them seriously, didn’t waver Draco’s mind. 

“The _woman_ hasn’t murdered the _Primus_ ,” Hermione spoke. 

Lifting his head, Draco could see the Emperor had stopped in front of her. She was looking Augustus directly in the eyes, even though she was almost a head smaller than him. 

Her chin jutted defiantly. “Murder isn’t the way the daughters of Isis spread their mission.” 

Surprised at the woman’s verve, Augustus replied, “Your Queen murdered herself.” 

Hermione made a single step towards the leader of the _Imperium Romanum_ , and Draco observed the scene with awe. “My Queen had no choice — either the poison or the snake bearing the name of a Roman ruler forcing her into captivity.” 

She relaxed her posture, just a fraction, and opened the palms of her hands towards Augustus. “I may have done many things a Roman patrician would condemn as uncouth. But I haven’t taken anyone’s life.” 

Suddenly, the Emperor threw back his head and made a barking laugh. “She is a fierce lioness, isn’t she?” 

Draco could only nod dumbly. The Emperor turned and sat on his seat again. 

“You say you haven’t committed the murder you are accused of. But I want proof.” He finally directed his gaze away from Hermione and to Severus. 

“Severus, if she is speaking the truth, you are the person who can prove it.”

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologise for the delay. This chapter has been ready for a bit, I had life happening, and I'm late updating this. At the moment, I am really swamped with work to the point that fandom as a hobby is sadly very low on my to-do list. That's really hard because fanfiction (reading and writing) is a wonderful escape for me. I hope you understand. The next and last chapter/epilogue will go up as soon as it's written and beta'ed. And I hope I'll find enough energy to answer the lovely reviews that have reached me for the previous chapter.
> 
> Endless beta love to niffizzle, who deserves all the hugs, and a big, loud kiss for mcal because she is how she is.

When Draco heard the Emperor’s order, his stomach plummeted to somewhere between his knees. 

He, himself, hadn’t mastered Legilimency yet, even though he was talented at Occlumency. Severus, on the other hand, could wade through anyone’s mind, and, if he was as ruthless as the Emperor’s demand undoubtedly entailed, he could cause the mind-invaded person a lot of pain. 

Hermione had proven herself very proficient in all kinds of magic, but Draco had no idea if she could or would resist Severus’ invasion. 

“Do you agree, Hermione of Alexandria?” 

“Or what? You are going to hold me captive like Cleopatra?” 

“You can’t compare this situation to your Queen’s. You are not Egypt’s leader nor did you made any attempts to seduce me.” Something in Hermione’s unwavering gaze made the leader of the Senate and People of Rome justify himself, a rare occurrence. And Draco’s jealousy flared up for a moment upon Octavian’s pronunciation of “seduce.” 

Cleopatra, as rumour had it, hadn’t been successful because Augustus believed in virtue. Draco prayed it would be the same with his witch. But, and the realisation dawned upon him like lead in his veins, this wasn’t the time nor place to reflect on his and Hermione’s relationship. 

Before Hermione could reply, Draco straightened his shoulders and stepped forward. 

“Can you promise her that she won’t be harmed and that you are going to release her without further interrogations if her innocence is proven?” 

Even though Hermione didn’t take her eyes from the Emperor, Draco thought he could feel a wave of gratefulness coming from her. It washed over him like a warm summer rain. Not over his skin, but through his magic. 

“I don’t know yet if your courage is foolish or brave, Draco Lucius, but yes. I stand by my word as Caesar.” 

Too clearly, Draco knew that leaders of Rome had broken their promises before. And there were only four people in this room, one of them the suspect in a murder. If push came to shove, Augustus could “forget” this conversation, this interrogation, ever existed. 

Draco chose to believe in the Emperor’s word. “I am not a brave man,  _ Divi filius _ ,” he said, addressing Augustus with another of his titles, maybe even the most flattering of them. “But nor am I a liar or a traitor. Hermione is innocent. And you always hold true to the words you gave to your people - no matter how far away from the  _ Urbs _ they are.” 

“Books and cleverness are two words I’d use to describe you, son,” Augustus replied, not without humour. He was clearly aware of the rhetoric behind Draco’s words. Nevertheless, he then steered the conversation back to Hermione. 

“Yes or no, Hermione? I am not going to let Severus invade your mind without your permission.” 

The witch exchanged a short glance with Draco, who nodded encouragingly. 

“Yes,” she stated. 

On that cue, Severus stepped forward, placing his wand at Hermione’s forehead, directly between her eyes. 

A tension in her shoulders was the only physical sign that the actions didn’t sit well with Hermione. She chose to close her eyes, just as Draco always did when he practised Occlumency against his godfather’s Legilimency. 

“Open your mind, Hermione. Show me your memories, starting with yesterday,” Severus addressed her, his voice even and bordering hypnotic. “What did you do around the  _ cena _ ? Did you cook? Visit the market?” 

All these words were directed at the woman, but Draco felt with her. She had told him that she had had some kind of soup for the main meal _.  _ They had laughed over Draco’s ability to pronounce some Egyptian names for the vegetables she had acquired from the market that morning. 

She must have shown Severus her visit at the market and the meal, for Severus nodded, satisfied. “That’s a good start.” He didn’t share the details with the Emperor. It wasn’t relevant to what they were looking for, after all. 

“And then? Show me what happened afterwards.”

Draco startled when someone touched his shoulder. 

“Circe, Theo!” he hissed. “You almost killed me, but I am so glad to see you!” 

He touched his friend’s shoulder in return and pulled him a bit closer. Though, he didn’t need to worry: Augustus and Severus were both so concentrated on Hermione that they didn’t pay attention to anything else. By now, Severus had given a detailed description of the meeting Hermione and her sisters had the day before. The rituals they performed, the gossip they exchanged, the jokes they told — all unfamiliar to someone in Rome, but all very innocent and harmless. Nevertheless, the Emperor listened very closely. 

“Theo, could you do me a favour?” 

His friend nodded. “Of course.”

“There’s no way I am leaving Hermione’s side now, but I would like you to find something out. When we entered this room, a small group of soldiers left it. And I can’t shake the feeling that at least one of them is connected to this mess. But I can’t concentrate properly now, so—” 

“I’ll check if they are still in the building; I’m almost sure they are.” 

“Thank you, Theo. I owe you.” 

Theo winked. “Don’t worry. Simply name your and Hermione’s firstborn after me and we’re fine.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, but, truthfully, he was thankful for his friend’s attempt at humour. And there was a warmth in his stomach wishing he and Hermione  _ had _ a firstborn to name after Theo. 

But this wasn’t the time to dream. Hermione gave a pained noise that caused him to turn around. She was frowning so hard her eyebrows almost touched and her lips were pressed together tightly. 

“She is keeping me out from her memories after that. The meeting of the Isis sisters is almost at its end, but she is blocking me, so I can’t see what happens next.” 

“It could be vital, Severus. Apply more pressure!” Augustus ordered. 

Draco knew what had happened next and presumed Hermione didn’t want to share their rather intimate encounter with anyone. He stepped towards them and gently touched Hermione’s cheek with his knuckles. 

“It’s alright. Show Severus what happened next. We have nothing to hide,” he quietly told her. 

After a moment, she relaxed, and Draco gave Severus a slight nod. 

“Can you see it now?” 

“Yes,” his godfather said. The sweat was running down his temples, a sign that he was using a considerable part of his powers.

“Tell the Emperor,” Draco said. It was vital that Augustus trusted Hermione. 

“Draco visits. They talk for a long time.” 

“What about?” Augustus asked. 

“They are familiar with each other to the point that they exchange some wooing.” 

Draco almost snorted. His godfather was a genius, but he had chosen to remain unwed after he fell in love with one woman he couldn’t have. Thus, he was a bit rusty in romantical terms. 

“We flirted,” Draco supplied with a grin. 

“They also talk about the magical potential within the Isis cult. Though, as it seems, only a few have Hermione’s potential,” Severus continued. 

“Interesting. And magic is more or less common for their practices?” The Emperor’s question was directed at Draco who nodded. 

“Some forms of magic are a matter of training, others are inherent. It’s all in my report.” That was only a bit of a lie since the report was only due in a few days. 

“They talk about Hermione and her connection to Cleopatra,” Severus said, his eyes now also closed. “To sum it up, they argue about the practice of the Library of Alexandria. The Egyptians basically occupied important pieces and handed copies back, making the place one of the most precious archives in the world.” And that was where Severus left it. 

Draco could have kissed him for deliberately leaving out the point of the argument — that Hermione believed herself the protector of the late library’s treasures. 

“It was a wise decision to bring to Rome what could be saved in the fire. Such a pity that someone burned it down,” Augustus commented, causing Draco to throw his head around. 

“Did you really believe the myth that I caused the fire in the Library to heighten the pressure on Cleopatra?” Octavian chastised lightly. “Knowledge is power, Draco. And power means peace.” 

Draco didn’t know what to reply to that. 

“What happened next, Severus?” 

“Things… escalade over the argument. Draco and Hermione...kiss rather passionately.” 

“Wait until your father hears about that,” Augustus commented and actually clapped Draco’s shoulder.

The young wizard felt the urge to justify himself. “We really just kissed. But when we make it out this room alright, I can guarantee it won’t stay like that.” His voice was sharper than intended, and Augustus raised an eyebrow at the tone. 

“For all I care, you have my blessings to marry her — as long as she didn’t commit the murder or tries to destroy the Imperius.” Then, he grinned devilishly. “Though, I officially order you that I am in the same room when you tell your father.” 

“If the young men have finished their conversation, I would like to continue to present my findings,” Severus drawled. 

“Go on, then,” Augustus approved. 

“She hears a rather sharp exchange between Draco and another Roman on the street outside her house but can’t make out the exact words. She wants to ask Draco what this was all about the next time she sees him. Then, she goes to bed.” 

A questioning glance from the Emperor led Draco to an approving nod, but before he could elaborate what had happened between the Tesserarius and him, Severus recounted what Hermione had experienced this morning. 

“From what I see, this morning has been a remarkably boring one but not suspiciously so. Hermione visits the market, where she sees some herbs she makes a note to show and explain Draco to. Mostly kitchen herbs, but one or two can also be used in potions, all very harmless.” 

“I have announced my interest in the similarities and differences in Egyptian and Roman potion making to her. There are some promising synergies, I think,” Draco added to Severus’ retelling. 

The Emperor nodded, and Draco knew he wouldn’t forget that. 

“She goes home, prepares some rather efficient medical salves and receives two customers. One woman, a mother of five, who gets her monthly dose of a potion that apparently… assures that the woman doesn’t become with child again?” 

“Fascinating,” Draco mumbled. He didn’t even know that such potions were possible and neither apparently did his godfather. 

“The other customer is a high ranking Egyptian whoms she helps through some… intimate problems with his wife by doing some kind of mental journey, I think.” 

“That is the kind of magic you described in your last missive, isn’t it?” Augustus asked Draco. 

“Yes. It is rather… sexual in its nature, but usually doesn’t have dangerous side-effects.” He wouldn’t call the improved access to his magic dangerous  _ per se _ . 

“The session takes a while, but the client pays well, and Hermione is content with her work. She is about to read some religious text when I knock on her door and her day takes a rather unexpected turn from her point of view.” Severus pulled back from her mind, his wand lowering, and he opened his eyes, focusing directly on Augustus. 

“She is innocent.” 

“I have your word?” 

“You have my word. She is a witch, for sure, and a powerful one at that, but she had nothing to do with the Pilus Primus’ death.” 

“I told you as much.” Hermione’s voice was a bit shaky, but her gaze was clear and firm. Draco stepped to her side, looping one arm around her to steady her if she faltered. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened her back proudly. 

“I am going to leave now.” She wasn’t asking for permission, Draco noticed with amusement. 

Then, the doors opened and Theo stepped in.

“No, please wait a moment, Hermione.” 

“Any news, Theo?” Draco asked, hopefully. 

“I don’t know if they are relevant,” his friend admitted after greeting the Emperor. “The soldiers that were in this room before Draco entered, they were here to blame Hermione for the murder, right?” 

“They called themselves witnesses, correct. Even though we know something is amiss with them, clearly,” Augustus conceded. “A Tesserarius and some lower ranking soldiers.” 

“A Tesserarius?” A thought struck Draco. “What is his name?” 

“Marcus Aponius,” Augustus answered. 

“Aponius? Like the senator that was recently killed?” 

Augustus seemed to catch his drift for he inclined his head curiously. 

“Would you agree on calling him in again, Octavian? I have a theory I’d like to test.” 

The Emperor nodded and rang for a guard to retrieve the Tesserarius. 

“The Emperor trusts you,” Hermione assessed, and Draco felt many questions behind her words. “Your family is indeed pretty influential, isn’t it?” 

Draco shrugged, a bit sheepish. 

“He comes from a powerful family, but Draco is the one with a great future in Rome because of his own actions and not his name,” Severus chided, defending his godson against what he suspected was a critique. 

“I know. I was just surprised that the spoiled patrician he is, he didn’t brag about it,” Hermione countered, causing the Emperor to actually snort. 

Before they could continue the embarrassing conversation that made Draco’s ears feel very warm, the door opened and the Tesserarius was brought in. And Draco realised he indeed had met the man recently. Flooded with relief because his theory was correct so far, Draco approached the man. 

“Marcus Aponius, that is your name, Tesserarius?” 

The man nodded, but his whole posture was tense, like a coil ready to spring. “Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you mention you were also a senator’s son when we ran into each other yesterday?” 

The Tesserarius gave a shrug that was almost petulant. 

“Answer!” Draco bellowed at him, surprising himself with the force of command in his voice. 

He threw a short glance at Augustus, who gave him an approving nod — the young wizard hadn’t overstepped his boundaries. 

“Was it because you came out of the taverna and had too much wine?” 

No answer. 

He decided to up the game. “Was it because you couldn’t pay for the cheap whore you wanted?”

“ _ No! _ ” It broke out of Marcus. “No!” he repeated, loudly. “It was because I saw you coming out of your Egyptian witches’ house!” He pointed at Hermione. 

Finally, the interrogation went into a productive direction. “So you know Hermione? You know that she is a witch?” 

“It’s no secret, is it? These women are all the same. They are no better than the prostitutes in the legion!” 

Draco jumped forward, but Hermione stopped him. 

“Draco! I’ve been called worse. Don’t do something stupid now!” 

He pulled back.

Marcus’ reaction consisted of an evil laugh. “See? She’s got you wrapped around her finger! They all have!” 

Then, the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. 

“Just like one of the female slaves had your father, right?” 

Marcus’ face froze before he turned furious. “Yes! That little traitor seduced my father to the point that he wanted to leave my mother!” 

“That would have meant quite the scandal among the patricians and the senate itself, wouldn’t it, Severus?” he provoked the man further. 

“Obviously,” Severus drawled. 

“And that made you angry?” Draco inquired further. 

“Of course! But I was in Alexandria and not at home, so I knew I could only eradicate the problem at its roots.” 

“The Daughters of Isis are the problem?” Hermione snorted, but Draco gestured for her to be quiet - what earned him a glare from the witch. 

“They are! Rubbing themselves all over the Roman men, slowly infiltrating our society and our culture to bring it down.” 

“So when your father died, you decided to take matters into your own hands?” Draco had his hands resting behind his back and paced back and forth in front of the suspect. 

“No. She did.” Marcus accused Hermione and pointed a finger at her. “She is responsible for the Primus’ death!” He cried and, for the first time since entering the room, directed his words at the Emperor. “This woman did it! Have you seen them, Augustus? They are powerful witches, these Daughters of Isis! She killed him, left her magical hieroglyphs, and fled!” 

“Of course, I could kill someone. But there’s no power in murder. Just weakness,” Hermione remarked, perfectly calm. 

“I appreciate your loyalty in Rome’s values and culture,” Augustus began almost gently. “But she hasn’t killed the Primus. And I doubt that she has had anything to do with your father’s murder.” 

Marcus began fidgeting, and Draco placed his hand on his wand in case he tried anything on the Emperor. 

“You are going to stay here for a while. I don’t want someone like you representing the Imperium in Alexandria,” Augustus ordered. 

Draco immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say in this situation. The man who was convinced he defended Rome’s beliefs was now ordered back — a fall from grace that the whole society of patricians would talk about. 

One moment, Draco’s realisation set in that the man had reached his ultimate breaking point; the next, Marcus pulled a dagger from somewhere in his toga.

It happened in a blink of an eye: Draco saw the dagger and reached for his wand, a warning on his lips, and then Marcus threw the weapon at Augustus. 

The young wizard wanted to scream, to yell a spell, but it was all moot. 

The intricate piece of armoury clattered to the floor, and it resonated loudly in the suddenly strangely quiet room. 

Red engulfed the dagger. 

But it wasn’t the red of blood pouring from a deadly wound — it was the scorching red of flames embracing it and burning it to ashes. 

Draco, Severus, and Augustus all looked at Hermione. 

The witch stood there, proudly, her hand outstretched towards the dagger, some sparks of magic still dancing around her fingers. 

“I think someone should arrest him?” Hermione asked, a tad amused. 

The man stood there, frozen in the literal sense, looking as if in full motion but actually not able to move a finger. 

Hermione had stunned him. And thus, she saved the Emperor’s life.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final chapter of this story. I have been working on it on and off for more than a year, and I am proud to finally check the 'complete' box off today. 
> 
> And, again, I want to thank mcal and her endless enthusiasm for this story and niffizzle who helps me grow as a writer with each story - with her knowledge and her friendship.

Severus, who — just like Draco — had his hand already on his wand, sprang into action and conjured ropes to secure Marcus. 

Augustus looked a bit surprised but not startled. It wasn’t the first attempt to take his life nor would it be the last. Instead, he stared at Hermione. 

“Hermione of Alexandria, I am in your debt for saving my life.” He placed a hand on his heart and lowered his head — a humble act, especially coming from an Emperor. 

Hermione smiled, maintaining an upright and confident stance. “It wouldn’t look good if you got murdered with me and two other magic-wielders present, even  _ with _ them using crutches for their magic.” 

With those last words, she threw Severus a wink. He continued wrapping up Marcus, but Draco knew too well that Severus had an excellent sense of hearing and had decided to ignore the comment. Draco chuckled, not feeling like he, himself, had failed. He had simply been slower than the brunette witch and wasn’t too proud to admit that. 

“I expect you to bring her around more often, Draco,” Augustus addressed the young wizard, smiling indulgently. “It seems that she’s good for you and your life.” It didn’t escape Draco that the Emperor hinted not at his love life but his career. “Now, consider yourself dismissed. I have work to do.” Augustus hinted at Severus and the tightly roped assassin. 

Hermione inclined her head, reminiscent of a bow, before Draco reached for her hand. He couldn’t wait to be alone with her. 

With a last word of goodbye to his Emperor, he navigated the witch outside, trying hard to keep a dignified appearance. The cold tension that had accompanied him to Rome had evaporated and was quickly replaced by another form of tension — this one of the sensual kind. 

They turned around a few corners, hands interlaced, before she started talking and laughing. “I told you I am faster with my magic without holding onto this stick—” 

He didn’t let her finish. With a quick glance to assure they were alone, Draco pinned her against the wall. Surprised, she squealed, a delight for Draco’s ears. 

“Be quiet for once, witch. If I don’t have you in my bed in a blink of an eye, I might accidentally set Rome on fire!” he growled against the side of her neck, ending with a nip of his teeth against her hot skin where he could feel her magic pulse against his. 

She settled her hand against his cheek and brought his face to hers. “Let’s leave that idea for another day, alright? Your bed seems much more tempting.” She winked at him and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. The fire he had spoken of was already in her eyes. And it was burning solely for him, Draco Lucius.

* * *

_ A few days later _

Draco woke up  _ again  _ to someone knocking on his door. Yet, this time, it was followed by a grumpy growl from over his shoulder. Without opening his eyes, Draco grinned. 

Hermione wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when waking up, as he had already learned. For a few, perfect moments, he relished the feel of her naked body against his and her earthy scent that tickled his magic when he inhaled it, slightly infused by the smell of the fresh sweat that they had produced in last night’s carnal activities. Before he could reminiscence about how their bodies had joined in the most perfect way, another knock resonated against his bedroom door. 

“It’s Theo. Tell him to get eaten by a crocodile, yes?” Hermione mumbled, burying her head more firmly against his shoulder. 

Making sure she was properly covered by his cotton blanket, Draco chuckled and pointed his fingers at the door. It took him two tries and a lot of concentration, but then the door opened. Hermione had her most delicious ways to teach him wandless magic, and Draco was an eager learner (even when it wasn’t about sex), but he was still very proud of his progress. 

Carefully, Theo peeked through the door’s opening, his eyes covered by his hand. 

“I’m instructed to tell you to get eaten by a crocodile, do you know?” Draco whispered humorously, for Hermione had fallen back to sleep. 

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your coin in my house yesterday. And I better tell you that Augustus wants to see you.” 

“Does he? I wonder what he wants.” 

“I don’t have the slightest idea, but you better go.” Theo hesitated before grinning, uncovering his eyes. “Shall I take your position? It would be a shame to wake such a beauty—” 

Draco magically slammed the door in Theo’s face. He was well aware that his friend was only teasing, especially since Theo had lately taken a special liking to a raven-haired slave. He couldn’t remember the name, but the well-built man had a scar the form of a lightning bolt on his forehead. 

Carefully untangling himself from Hermione, Draco exited his bed. He pressed a kiss against the sleeping witch’s forehead, hoping he would be back before she woke. Then, he left for Rome. 

* * *

Not even an hour later, Draco’s feet automatically carried him from the Travel Room to the office he shared with Theo. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, his friend greeted him with a cheerful, “Let me guess — a promotion?” 

Draco was thankful for Theo’s support, especially because it was so hard to find a true friend amongst all the political alliances. Still, he could only croak a quiet “Yes,” as a reply and collapsed into a nearby chair. 

“Why are you looking as if an  _ Inferius _ has run you over then?” 

“I am supposed to return to Rome to work at Severus’ side.”

“But that’s fantastic! You can take Hermione with you—” 

Draco interrupted Theo by slamming the hand on the marble table between them. “That’s exactly the problem! Hermione!” Once the words had left him, he sunk back down into the chair.

Theo appeared honestly surprised. “Oh. You don’t want her then? Are you afraid of what your father will say? Because if you ask me, she’s the one for you.” 

Draco laughed, but it was without mirth. “I know, Theo, I know. I don’t care what my father will say. He wanted me to do as the Emperor pleases, right? And when the Caesar advises me to bring someone to Rome with me, who is my father to disappoint him?” He breathed out heavily. “But Egypt is her home. Her magic is rooted here. And I’m afraid that the heart of the Imperium Romanum isn’t where she wants to be. The Senate, the political drama, the way most wives lead their lives. That’s not her.” 

“Of course not!” Theo cackled. “And thank the Deities for that. She isn’t like those good Roman girls that were raised to reign over the household. Hermione could rule an Empire if she wanted. Judging from what I know, she’s that powerful.” 

“She is.” A smile broke through Draco’s stupor. “But she doesn’t want power. She wants knowledge and wisdom and acknowledgment of her abilities. And she wants respect for her culture. Her magic. Her people.” 

“Then Rome is where she needs to be. You are head over heels for her, my friend. Trust her. Give her the chance to choose. Even if that means a heartbreak for you.” 

Something in his words immediately resonated with Draco. He blinked, slowly, and looked at his friend. “Theo. I need to tell her and pray she’ll come with me.” 

Theo snorted. “And here I thought you wouldn’t get the subtle clue.” 

As if he was in a trance, Draco left the office, leaving a quietly chuckling Theo behind. 

* * *

When he finally returned to his house, Draco was met with the sight of Hermione bending over some herbs growing in the atrium. He admired the lovely shape of her behind for some seconds before sighing heavily. 

The sound caused Hermione to turn around. The relaxed smile on her face, her curls dancing around her face wildly, made his heart sink. He didn't want to lose what had just started to happen between them, and he wouldn’t leave her as long as she was welcoming him in her life, his career be damned. 

“This is  _ lavandula _ , right?” she asked. “I read about its magical purposes, but no text explained its wonderful scent.” 

Draco ignored her words. He had to tell her before he lost the nerve to do so. “Augustus wants me in Rome. As second consultant.” 

Hermione’s face fell. Though, she didn’t cry or became angry. No, even worse. Her face became a mask, a professional expression she would hide all of her emotions behind. “Congratulations, Draco. That’s quite the opportunity, right? You can do a lot of good things for the magical population in that position.” 

She was about to turn back around when Draco threw his arms around her, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Hermione, I…” He searched for words. “I don’t want to let you go. But I also know that you are your own woman, and you don’t need me.” 

He felt her mask falling, the tension in her body leaving. “And that’s where you are wrong, Draco. Yes, I am my own woman. But I also need you. You add something to my life I never imagined myself being appreciative about: love. Love between two humans.” She closed her eyes, and Draco saw a single tear rolling down her cheek. “For the first time in my life, I feel like my independence is connected to another person. Not as an anchor tethering me to the ground, but as a pair of wings that make me feel fly even higher.” 

Draco’s feelings soared. He cradled her face in his hands. 

“Octavian offers you a position, too, but more of an informal one. He wants you to function as a liaison, a mediator between him and the Egyptian culture and people.”

Something ignited in Hermione’s gaze. “That would be a challenging and interesting post,” she said, enthusiasm suffusing her words. “Then there’s all these texts and parchments from the Library of Alexandria still in Augustus’ possession. And many Greek and Roman sources I still don’t know yet.” 

He laughed and asked, hopefully, “So you are coming to Rome with me?” 

“No.” 

Draco’s heart stopped beating before she continued. “Not yet. I need some time to organise things. I can’t lose all of the personal contacts I have here, and I have clients that need my help. Also, we need to keep the house here so we have a place to stay whenever we are here, as lovely as your house here is, it’s not a home.” 

He couldn’t stop grinning, but there was one last thing he needed to talk to her about. “Hermione… I know you don’t want to get married right away or maybe not at all, but when you come to Rome with me,  _ live with me _ , the Emperor has made it clear that this wild status between us can’t remain too long. Especially if you take the position he offers you.” 

A little crease appeared between her brows. “Virtues and all?” He nodded. “I don’t know yet. I’d probably take that job offer, but maybe you aren’t husband material at all?” she said, teasingly. 

“Hey!” Draco swatted her backside, only making her laugh. 

Hermione interlaced her hand with his and smiled at him mischievously, pulling him towards his private bath. “You should try to convince me with some more of your qualities, don’t you agree?” 

Draco nodded happily and followed Hermione. He knew that the future would hold quite a few obstacles for them, but with his skin touching hers and their magic humming in excitement of the things to come, he was convinced that meeting and falling in love in Egypt with Hermione was only the first part of his journey. 

Their journey. 

  
  



End file.
